


Stuck on Rewind

by VoidGhost



Category: Animaniacs
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Memory Loss, Non-Binary Wakko Warner, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Time Shenanigans, or those 60 years?, what happened in those 22 years?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27870918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidGhost/pseuds/VoidGhost
Summary: In hindsight, they should’ve been more concerned about those missing twenty-two years.But, honestly? It was nothing new for them. They don’t exactly remember those sixty years locked in the water tower, either. That’s the price for being re-animated - it leaves a lot of blanks.That’s why they didn’t really think much of it. Twenty-two years was nothing compared to sixty, and their second time through the re-design process was a lot less invasive and taxing (at least, from what they recalled).If anything happened in those twenty-two years, they were not informed about it, and they did not ask.(They have enough memories of those years locked in the water tower. They’d prefer not to have new ones.)But, with one of his siblings stuck on rewind and a mysterious stranger hunting them down? Yakko really wished they asked.
Relationships: Dot Warner & Wakko Warner, Dot Warner & Wakko Warner & Yakko Warner, Dot Warner & Yakko Warner, Wakko Warner & Yakko Warner
Comments: 38
Kudos: 149





	1. Red Hat Man

**Author's Note:**

> It's exam week and i'm writing animaniac fanfic instead of studying. so this better be worth it ya'll.

In hindsight, they should’ve been more concerned about those missing twenty-two years. 

But, honestly? It was nothing new for them. They don’t exactly remember those sixty years locked in the water tower, either. That’s the price for being re-animated - it leaves a lot of blanks. 

That’s why they didn’t really think much of it. Twenty-two years was nothing compared to sixty, and their second time through the re-design process was a lot less invasive and taxing (at least, from what they recalled). 

If anything happened in those twenty-two years, they were not informed about it, and they did not ask. 

(They have enough memories of those years locked in the water tower. They’d prefer not to have new ones.)

But, with one of his siblings stuck on rewind and a mysterious stranger hunting them down? Yakko really wished they asked. 

*

It started on a fairly normal day, as these things tend to do. 

It was a film day. The success of the reboot led to another deal with Hulu, and season 3 was in the midst of production. The reception of the first season came as a surprise to everyone - Yakko would be the last to admit, but filming had been nerve-wracking. They had to wait two whole years for a public response (at least cable gave instant gratification for episodes released one at a time) and reboots tended to have mixed reception. It’s either a hit or it’s shit, Ms. Norita said into the phone once while on set, which did not ease Yakko’s anxiety at all. 

But it was a hit. The show was nostalgic without being dated, modern without losing the soul of the original.  _ The Animaniacs  _ was a success. 

This particular skit wasn’t anything special. It’s a history one, which Yakko had been looking forward to ever since the table read. The three of them get booted back to 1787 and try to get their say in on the Constitution. Dot had a special bit calling out the Founding Fathers’ hypocrisy that she was particularly proud of, and Yakko had a short musical number (featuring a nod to  _ Hamilton _ ). Wakko had a few slapstick moments, but it wasn’t a central episode for him, so he was able to come and go between takes. 

And, well, nobody really questioned where Wakko went off to. Everyone knew him well enough by now to check the snack table or the bathrooms or somewhere in between. With one memorable occasion, asleep behind the set and blissfully unaware of their calls to him. 

So, when he didn’t show up in time for a scene, the usual spots were checked; the snack table,  _ under  _ the snack table, both the gendered and unisex bathrooms, all the hidden nooks and crannies that could be good for a nap, the rafters and the lights….

All that was left was the movie lot, unless he wandered further than that. But Wakko should know better than to go too far. 

“He should know better than to go too far,” Yakko said so. 

“Maybe he saw a hot-dog balloon, or followed a smell,” Dot suggested. 

The two of them volunteered to search for their brother - or, Yakko volunteered out of obligation, and Dot followed because the set was full of agitated adults and no one who would appreciate her wit - so there they were, wandering the movie lot, and searching for any sign of their missing sibling. 

“If he’s asleep somewhere, I’ll hang his hammock outside on the water tower,” Dot promised. “In a rainstorm. While he’s sleeping.” 

“You’re not gonna do that,” Yakko told her. “But we will get a leash.” 

“Or a collar with a bell.”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea.” 

“How about a GPS tracker?”

“Ehhh, that might be a grey area for the audience.”

The pair had just rounded the corner of a warehouse that brought WB studios into sight, along with a myriad of PD cars flashing red and blue. They stopped - the realization hitting that this wasn’t the start of a comedic adventure leading to a worthy punchline - and glanced at each other. Back to the lights. Then, together, they vaulted into a sprint. 

An officer with the badge ‘Paulsen’ met them just before they burst into the building. 

“Was wonderin’ when you kids would show up,” Officer Paulsen said. “We were about to send someone to fetch ya. C’mon.” 

He led them into the WB studios and past several empty offices. A few execs were being questioned by other officers, including Ms. Norita, who tapped her foot as if impatient. Dot understood it that way, as Ms. Norita was not a very patient person to begin with. But Yakko recognized the way she crossed her arms over her chest, how her fingers pinched and pulled at the fabric of her sleeves, how she couldn’t keep eye contact with the officer questioning her. Ms. Norita was nervous. 

Subconsciously, he moved closer to his sister, and made sure she was within grabbing distance. 

“What happened here?” Yakko asked the officer. 

“Someone broke into the vaults,” Officer Paulsen said. “No force of entry, no evidence of who it was. They left without anyone noticing. Nothing of value was missing, though, except--” 

Dot’s gasp interrupted as they came upon the end of this hallway. The vaults were located at a dead end, hidden behind a pair of electronically-locked doors that only a passcode and a valid ID card could unlock. Not that that could stop the Warner siblings. But there wasn’t anything of interest in there, anyway - just old films and camera equipment. 

No, Dot’s gasp was not because those double doors stood wide open now, revealing the three large vaults behind a classic spin lock, nor the one vault that stood wide open as officers searched the material. It was because of the figure pressed flat against the wall, facing the scene of the crime, and unmoving. 

“What happened to Wakko?” Dot cried as the two of them approached their misshapen sibling. 

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Officer Paulsen said. “Seems like he was a witness.” 

Wakko appeared like he was just squished against the wall panel by a mallet, but there were no other signs of impact and it was odd that he still hasn't popped back into shape. He had his arms in front of him as if trying to block a blow, while his eyes were frozen wide and his tongue stuck out one corner. 

“We thought you might be able to do something about it,” Officer Paulsen continued. 

“Can you do something, Yakko?” Dot asked, hopeful, as she looked up at her brother. 

Yakko had a hand on his chin as he examined the squished form of his brother. None of them could be sure whether this was the result of a Toon or a human, which made his options vary.  _ Well, here goes nothin’ _ .

Yakko dipped into his Toon abilities and did what he would do if this was a normal occurrence; he peeled Wakko from the wall and shook him out until his form grew to shape again. With that, Wakko sucked in a breath and spasmed out of Yakko’s grip, falling on his tush. He looked up at them and blinked once, twice. 

“You okay, sib?” Yakko asked, helping Wakko stand. 

Wakko was clearly dazed, but appeared unharmed. They looked around as if he wasn’t quite sure where he was. “I think so. What happened?”

“Someone broke into the vaults!” Dot exclaimed, quickly at her sibling’s other side. “Did you see who it was?”

A pause, and Wakko shook his head. “No? Weren’t we just on set?”

The other two shared a look. Yakko put a hand on Wakko’s shoulder. “You wandered off, Wak. We went looking for you and found you here.” Wakko’s frown deepened into something lost, confused. “Don’t you remember?”

Wakko took a moment to think, but that wasn’t promising to either of the siblings. “Last thing I remember is going to find the snack table.”

Officer Paulsen, who was nearby listening in, jotted something down in a notebook. “I’ll pass this on. Wakko must have witnessed the culprit and they made sure he wouldn’t remember.” He closed the notebook and tucked it into his pocket. “We’ll get you looked at, kid.” Then, to the other two, “Let us know if his memories come back.”

Then the officer was off, and the three siblings were left to each other. 

Yakko, naturally, took the lead. They were off to the best, and only, doctor they knew; Otto Scratchansniff, resident p-sychiatrist. 

He was expecting them, so someone from the studio must have informed him on what transpired. He had his check-up kit out and had Wakko sit on a cot while the doctor performed a physical. 

Toon physicals were a lot different than human physicals, and the practice was still developing ever since Toons started popping out of their frames in the early 1900s. Dr. Scratchansniff checked Wakko’s reactions, his stretch-and-pull, the capacity of his hammerspace, and any physical injuries. Although it’s difficult to leave lingering injuries on a Toon, it’s not impossible. 

Finally, he tested Wakko’s memory. 

“Last I remember is watching Yakko’s song on the Founding Fathers,” Wakko said. “Then that lady on set who’s on the phone all the time--”

“Our  _ producer _ ?” Dot suggested, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, her. She had a donut with a  _ chocolate glaze! _ So I went to go find the snack table. But the table didn’t have any donuts! And then that lady left so I followed her to ask her where she got that donut from and--” Wakko thought for a moment. “That’s where that stops.”

Dr. Scratchansniff wrote notes on his clipboard. “Well, it’s likely you witnessed the culprit, and they made sure you wouldn’t remember them. Whatever means that was, I’m still unsure.” He tapped his pen on his lip. “Take some time off. Get some rest, maybe it’ll come back to you.”

“What about our film schedule?” Wakko asked, deflating. 

“Filming has been pushed back,” The doctor said. “We all want to make sure you three are safe.”

“Safe from what?” Yakko asked. 

For a moment, Scratchansniff paused. It was a quick moment; his eyebrows tilted up and his hand paused in the air, as if caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Then, he cleared his throat and continued, “Safe from whoever broke in, obviously. The police suspect someone from the inside.”

“That’s pretty scary,” Dot said.

“You’re scared? I apparently met whoever it was!” Wakko retorted. 

“It’s scary for all of us,” Yakko said, watching Scratchy and wondering why he felt like they were being left out of the loop. “It’s very scary.”

*

Day 3 of being stuck in their tower and the siblings were getting bored. Not that they haven’t broken out already, but getting chased by Ralph has started to get old. Usually days like this were broken up along a filming schedule, or something else interesting would happen around the movie lot. But everything has been quiet since the robbery and no one’s come to tell them that filming has resumed. 

“I’m so boooooored,” Wakko cried from the couch, slumped over the armrest and dangling upside down. Wakko’s been fine ever since the incident - he hasn’t gained his missing memories, but there’s no lingering trauma from it. He’s been his normal, zany self. And as far as the rest of them know, no one else was hurt and nothing of value was stolen. 

It made Yakko wonder why, exactly, they’re on lockdown when it doesn’t seem that dire. 

“I asked you if you wanted to watch videos with me, but you said no,” Dot said from her bunk, her tablet propped up on her pillow. 

“I don’t want to  _ watch  _ something, I wanna  _ do  _ something!” Wakko said, sliding off the couch arm until his head came to rest on the floor. 

“Go torment Ralph some more,” Yakko suggested tiredly from their desk, his feet propped up beside his laptop. 

“We’ve already  _ done  _ that,” Wakko whined. 

“We don’t really have much else to do,” Yakko replied. 

There was a pause, and it seemed like the tower might return to its comfortable silence. 

Then, “I want a donut.”

Yakko sighed. “I don’t think we have any.”

Wakko tipped over from his perch and rolled to a proper sitting position. “Do we still have that donut box?”

“What donut box?”

“You know,” Wakko said, making a vague box shape with his hands. “That donut box we got, when we were filming.”

Yakko turned away from the screen to give his brother a look. “What?”

“The episode we were filming, before we stopped,” Wakko said. “Someone ate my donuts so we went to that donut shop to get more. We still have that, right?”

Dot was now watching from her bunk. “The one you ate in your sleep?”

“Well, yeah, but we didn’t get that far before….” Wakko shook his head. “Anyway. Where did that go?”

There was a moment where neither sibling replied, leaving Wakko looking between them, confused. “What?”

“We filmed that episode over a year ago,” Yakko finally said. 

Wakko’s face scrunched. “No, that’s not right.”

“That was  _ season one _ , Wakko. It aired last year.”

Wakko scrutinized Yakko’s sincerity, just before his face burst in a grin. “You’re messing with me.”

“He isn’t,” Dot said from the ladder of her bunk as she climbed down. “We’re in the middle of season three now.”

“Oh, you’re both trying to pull one on me now?” Wakko asked, hands on his hips. “I’m not falling for that.”

“Why do you think filming stopped in the first place?” Yakko asked seriously. 

That made Wakko paused. They could see the grim pull of his lips as this ‘joke’ failed to end. There was that lost look again that Yakko hated, because he knew that look; upon awakening for the third time in their existence, it made them feel off-balance, confused. They all had patches in their memories, but the three of them were always on the same page, and that’s what mattered. 

“I...don’t know,” Wakko eventually admitted. 

“Someone robbed the vaults and attacked you,” Dot filled him in. “You lost some of your memory, but it wasn’t like this, was it, Yakko?” She looked at him, hopeful again, looking for guidance. 

Yakko nodded. “You had only lost a few hours, not a few years.” He headed towards his cell phone on the desk, beside his laptop. “I’m gonna give Scratchy a call.”

He filled the doctor in on the news while Dot stayed firmly by Wakko’s side, the two of them talking low on the couch. Wakko had a pinch in his eyebrows as he likely told Dot what he did remember, and she astutely nodded along. 

“ _ Okay. Keep me updated if anything else changes. I’ll start looking for a diagnosis _ .”

A diagnosis wasn’t a solution, but it might be the best they have right now. “Thanks, doc. Hey, have they caught the guy yet that did this?”

“ _ Uh, no. Not yet. Still looking. I think they have a suspect, though. Didn’t tell me who. I don’t know anything. Uh, call me with any news. Stay safe you three _ .”

Then the call ended and Yakko had that to stew on now. First Ms. Norita appeared nervous, frightened even, and now Scratchy’s being evasive. Yakko had been unsure to make any final decisions, but that phone call cemented his suspicions. 

They were purposely being kept in the dark. 

Yakko set the phone on the desk just as his siblings turned their attention to him. 

“What did Scratchy say?” Dot asked. 

“Told us to keep him updated,” Yakko said, putting on a casual smile for his sibs. “He’s gonna do some research.”

Dot frowned. “How long is that gonna take?!”

Yakko watched his brother, who had his head tilted down with his feet swinging off the edge of the couch, hands firmly in his lap, who looked sad and lost and confused and unsure about himself, and wished he had a better answer. 

“I don’t know.”

*

They kept careful track of Wakko for the following days. Sometimes, it wasn’t too obvious; he knew where he was and he remembered why siblings were so concerned about him. Others, he entirely forgot their situation and believed they had been somewhere else entirely. Once, he woke up from a nap on the couch and believed their tower was filling up with rapidly multiplying bunnies. 

“It was going to explode,” Wakko said, looking around their empty tower dazed. “I thought…” 

“Relax, sib, there’s no buns, everything is fine,” Yakko reassured him, once believing they were past that whole buns debacle. 

Yakko kept Scratchansniff updated everyday, who was always just as cagey if Yakko got around to asking about the open case. 

“ _ I don’t know everything, they’re still searching-- _ ”

“That’s what you said for the past two weeks,” Yakko said, agitated by this behavior. “Honestly, Otto, it sounds like you’re hiding things from us.”

The phone went silent, and Yakko was unsure whether it was the usage of Scratchy’s first name or his demanding tone. He probably took the doctor by surprise. He may be drawn as a child, but he hated being patronized like one. 

“ _...Okay, fine. There are some details on the case withheld from you three. But it’s for your safety that you don’t know.” _

“Why? Wouldn’t it be best for us to know what kind of danger we’re in?” Yakko asked, offended at this omission, helpless without the knowledge on how to protect his siblings. 

“ _ You can’t go causing trouble when you don’t know what that trouble is, _ ” Scratchansniff explained. “ _ Listen, I promise we will fill you in once the culprit is caught.” _

“And what about Wakko?”

The doctor sighed. “ _ I’m not sure. It’s likely we won’t be able to reverse it unless we know what caused this to happen _ .”

“When they catch the guy?”

Scratchy’s silence was the answer he needed. 

“ _ Don’t go trying anything, Yakko, the police have already made progress on the case. Soon they’ll capture him. _ ”

“Are you sure?”

Even Yakko could hear the lie as Scratchy said,  _ “I’m positive _ .”

*

Yakko woke up to a scream. 

It wasn’t the first time, and it likely won’t be the last, but it still never fails to send his heart to his throat whenever it happens.

He sat up out of his ball-pit bed, sending plastic balls flying over the side, as he quickly recognized the yell to be Wakko’s. 

He was on his feet just as Dot was leaning over the side of the bunk and pulling her sleep mask off. The hammock, Wakko’s spot, was swinging wildly as Wakko thrashed from inside. 

“Hey, hey! Wakko, sib, c’mon! What’s got you riled up?” Yakko asked, as calmly as he could. Dot was watching with wide, worried eyes, but allowed Yakko to lead this confrontation. 

The thrashing swing came to a stop, and the only sound that came from inside was soft whimpering. Yakko’s protective nature struck and he slowly approached the hammock, keeping his voice low as he spoke reassurances. Where did Wakko think he was? Was he back on that Nickelwise episode? But Nickelwise didn’t seem to bother him nearly as much….

Yakko pulled the hammock open. Rubbed his eyes. Blinked, then rubbed his eyes again. 

Wakko sat up - or, it  _ was  _ Wakko, but he was different. His edges more rounded, his movements a bit slower. There was something missing that Yakko had a hard time pinning down. This  _ version  _ of Wakko looked up at his big brother, tears in his wide, panicked eyes, seeking comfort. 

“Red Hat Man,” Wakko cried out. “ _ Red Hat Man! _ ”

And then he collapsed into Yakko’s arms, and the word finally came to his mind. 

_ Modern _ . Wakko looked less  _ modern _ . 

Now, his shape more resembled their 90s show, before their  _ modern  _ re-animation. 

_ Oh, that’s not good _ .


	2. Plotz Thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strangely, that was what made the final thread snap. Yakko’s two siblings, one lost and unsure of themself for the first time in a long time, and the other with the hope ripped right out of her, worn down from worry. Yakko was not going to allow this to continue. 
> 
> Or, the siblings take matters into their own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finallyyyyy
> 
> will you believe me that I'm planning a sequel already?  
> After the first chapter, I put a lot more thought into the premise and now I have a coherent story - for the most part. I have no idea how long this will be, probably not very long or ill burn myself out, but i'm gonna try to finish this one lmao.
> 
> (also, Wakko is non-binary and goes by they/them and he/him.)

“Dot, could you turn on the lights, please?”

Without a word, Dot disappeared from the top bunk. Yakko heard the pitter-patter of her feet as the lights flicked on, and Yakko got a better look at his brother. 

Wakko was still shaking and had his head buried in Yakko’s shoulder, but it wasn’t the dim light playing tricks on him. Wakko was really  _ drawn  _ differently than he was supposed to be. His toes were parted, his corners rounded out, his shirt hugged him tighter, the underside of his cap was a different color. 

Yakko stretched his own hand out. He didn’t change, at least, and neither did Dot, as Yakko gave her a cursory look. It was only Wakko, his memories and now shape reverting back to past incarnations. 

“Is he okay?” Dot stage-whispered. 

Yakko only shrugged. Dot frowned. 

“Wakko, buddy, what’s up? Can you talk to me?” Yakko tried, rubbing circles on his brother’s back. 

Wakko sniffled, but didn’t pull away. With a sigh, Yakko picked his brother up out of the hammock and made his way to their couch. Dot followed, who tugged a blanket from their bunk and snuggled right into Yakko’s other side and wrapped all three of them with the blanket. 

“We’re right here with you, okay, Wakko?” Dot said, trying to give her own comfort. 

Wakko stayed buried in Yakko’s shoulder, but his muffled voice came out. “I had a nightmare.”

“What was it about?” Yakko asked. 

Wakko took a moment to calm his rapid breathing before he continued. “Red Hat Man.”

Yakko didn’t recall a villain like that in either of their shows. “What, like a superhero?”

“ _ No _ ,” Wakko said firmly, which shut up any other jokes Yakko had planned. “A bad guy. He had a tall red hat and he was mean and he wanted to hurt us.” A sniffle. “I couldn’t even prank him.” 

“Sounds like he deserved to be pranked,” Yakko said. 

“He did. He  _ really  _ hated us, Yakko.” Wakko finally picked his head up and blinked the blurriness from his eyes. When the world came into focus, he jerked back Yakko’s arms. 

“Why do you  _ look weird? _ ”

Yakko and Dot exchanged a look. 

“What year do you think it is, Wakko?” Yakko asked. 

Wakko gave his brother a look that read  _ Are you stupid? _ , but they still replied, “It’s 1998.”

Yakko looked to his sister. “Twenty years.”

“He thought it was 2018 yesterday,” Dot said. “How did he jump twenty years in one night?”

“I mean, none of us could recall those two decades anyway,” Yakko said. “So, maybe….?” 

He didn’t have an ending to that sentence, so they all sat in awkward silence for a few tense seconds. 

“What’s going on?” Wakko asked. 

Yakko turned to his sister. “Your turn.”

Dot scowled. “What?  _ No _ , I had to explain where he was last night  _ again _ . It’s  _ your  _ turn.”

“ _ I  _ need to call Scratchy.”

“Oh, I can do that. I’ll call him and tell him exactly where he can stick his dumb medical advice--”

“Okay! And that’s why  _ I’m  _ gonna call him.” Yakko set Wakko down on the couch as their sibling continued to glance between them, bewildered. “You get him up to speed.”

Then he went to a secluded edge of the tower, resolutely ignoring Dot’s evil eye. They were both tired of explaining their situation to Wakko only for him to forget it mere hours later.

Yakko selected the most recent contact on his phone and held it up to his ear. For a p-sychiatrist, Scratchansniff has not been as helpful as his degree would say he is. Every time Yakko calls, it’s the same thing: “Keep me updated, I’m doing research, it might be somelongmedicalword or anotherlongmedicalword, yada yada yada.” Yakko’s tried to be patient, but this new development has him on his last thread. If they don’t get any answers, then he’s going to have to activate Big Brother Mode. 

(That’s a lie. Yakko was always in Big Brother Mode, he just didn’t have to pull the authority card very often.)

So Yakko waited as the phone rang. And rang. And rang. Until: “Welcome to Dr. Otto Von Scratchansniff’s office. If this is about an appointment, please leave a message. If these are the Warners...please don’t call again.”

Yakko scowled. That’s been Scratchy’s voicemail message for years - which originally prompted a series of chain calls in the 90s over the course of several days until Scratchy blocked their water tower’s old landline - but Yakko has rarely heard it in the last couple years since their reboot. And now it was the last thing he wanted to hear. 

He called two more times, holding out some blind hope that Otto was just on the toilet, but it failed to yield different results. 

When he finally admitted defeat, Yakko dropped his cell in his pants and retreated back to his siblings. 

A sight he was hating more and more: Dot frowning in sympathy for their brother as he stared down into his lap, unusually subdued. Wakko’s upper lip perked out in a pout, his shoulders held tensely, his ears pressed back as he struggled to comprehend the situation. His eyes glanced up at Yakko as he entered, but aside from his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, he wasn’t nearly the bouncy kid he was supposed to be. 

Dot looked up as Yakko walked in. Despite her bitter words earlier about the doctor, she was always hopeful that there might be good news today. At Yakko’s frown, she deflated. 

Strangely, that was what made the final thread snap. Yakko’s two siblings, one lost and unsure of themself for the first time in a long time, and the other with the hope ripped right out of her, worn down from worry. Yakko was not going to allow this to continue. 

“C’mon, sibs,” Yakko decided. “We’re going to Scratchy’s office.”

*

Since Wakko’s condition started worsening, they haven’t stepped outside the tower for a couple days. Last time they did, almost a week ago, it was before they knew how dire things would get. In fact, it was a very good day, with their whole situation nearly forgotten in lieu of pranks on Ralph, who was the only WB employee allowed out on the lot after restrictions came down. The three of them were discussing various disguises and taking bets on who Ralph would allow onto the lot when Dot and Yakko noticed that Wakko had disappeared. 

After a short search (and a moment of panic) they found him calling into a storm drain for Nickelback, asking the non-existent clown if he knew where their siblings went. Upon finding them, Wakko told them all about his bubble-and-squeak meal and asked if they had a fun time with Picklewise as well. 

When they told him the truth (again), it was very difficult to convince him it wasn’t another one of Nickelwise’s tricks. 

So, upon leaving the tower again, Yakko kept his brother between himself and Dot, on a tight enough leash without using an actual leash. 

That, and the lot was suddenly full again. 

Somehow, at some point, while they were on lockdown worried about a robber striking again, and then dealing with their brother’s dilapidating memory, the studio went back into action. Without telling them. 

“They went on without us…?” 

Dot’s small voice made Yakko turn away from the railing of their tower, to see his baby siblings looking through the bars, lips in a pout and eyebrows turned up, dejected. 

“Hey now,” Yakko said, and they looked to him. “We can’t know that for sure. They could be….investigators!”

“I think those are cameras they’re carrying, though,” Wakko pointed out. 

“Taking pictures of the crime scene!”

“That’s the set for the  _ Scooby-doo  _ series,” Dot said.

“Well, they got the right people on the job!”

The pair looked at him with equal stares of flat unamusement. Well, annoyed at him is better than dejected.

“If that crew down there sees we’re out of the tower, though, they might alert Ralph,” Dot said. Then added, softer, “And I don’t feel like pulling pranks on him today.”

“Not a problem, sis,” Yakko said. He pulled the two of them in, and while Wakko wasn’t as  _ updated,  _ he still had the same tongue-out smile, the same optimistic attitude despite appearing a bit lost nowadays, and as long as that didn’t change, Yakko was certain they would be alright. 

“We are going to  _ stealth _ .”

*

_ No _ , the Warners were not made to stealth. Dot is witty, Wakko is whacky, and Yakko is the one that yaks. None of them had a special ability to stealth. 

That being said, when it was funny, it came easy. 

The three of them snuck by on tip-toes past the film crews, easily dodging the eyes by hiding behind poles, boom mics, even the director’s chair (while she was sitting in it!). They had a couple close calls - and now a prominent actor had a smiley face drawn on their back that can only be seen at certain angles - but they made it. Scratchy’s office was not very far. It resided in one of the older buildings on the edge of the lot. It was made of brick darkened by grout and age with scratched windows and an outdated interior. Especially outdated now, unless the kids start calling it ‘vintage’. Then suddenly it's modern again. 

The door was locked, but Scratchy wasn’t very creative with hiding the key. Yakko found it in the bottom of a planter sitting beside the door. They made sure the coast was clear before Yakko and Dot darted inside - then pulled Wakko in by his hood as he lingered outside, dazed.

And then there was that comforting feeling everytime Yakko walked in, like one breath released the tension from a day of performing. Maybe that’s why Scratchy tried to make them do breathing exercises for a while. 

Whenever they walked in, it was well-lit with soft yellow bulbs, a diffuser with changing lights that made the room smell like lavender, and once there used to be a radio to play soft music up until ‘97, when they blew it up in one session with a cassette of hard rock music.

Now, with the doc gone, it was all dark, silent, and smelled faintly of something bitter. 

Dot scrunched her nose upon entering and Wakko didn’t look too pleased either. If they recognized the lingering scent of tobacco, they didn’t say anything. Yakko expected they didn’t. 

He never pegged Scratchy as a smoker. Made him wonder if those bulbs were really a soft yellow or if it was the stained walls.

As they crept around the dark building, it became abundantly clear that no one was here. So Scratchy  _ wasn’t _ avoiding Yakko’s calls.  _ Oh, good _ , he thought, and was surprised how relieved he felt. Their p-sychiatrist might be keeping secrets from them, but he wasn’t going to abandon them.  _ Oh, good _ .

“So...what do we do now?” Dot asked. She was inspecting the ottoman which they’d have their sessions on. What was usually a deep red now appeared dull and cold in the dim light. The sun was already setting outside and cast long shadows in the room. 

Yakko spotted Scratchy’s desk across the room, littered with papers and loose pens. A laptop sat dusty in one corner, currently being used as a coaster for an old coffee mug. The  _ vintage  _ landline flashed with  MISSED CALL(3)  on the tiny digital screen. Most enticing, however, was a filing cabinet that sat just behind the desk, which Scratchy would pull files out of during their sessions. 

Yakko leapt over the desk and vaulted in the chair, causing it to spin uncontrollably, until he planted his hands on the desk for dramatic effect. 

“Now,” He said, the camera coming in for a close-up, “We look for clues.”

*

Seven days later (or, an hour, but it felt like days) of leafing through paperwork, and they’ve discovered a couple things. One, Doctor Otto smokes cigars. 

Yakko found a tin case full of them tucked away in a drawer. To be fair, it was full, and it looked as if it hadn’t been touched in a while, but Yakko still pushed it to the back before his siblings could notice. 

(He won’t ever tell them, but there was a moment in the 90s where he tried the burning end of a cigarette butt left in a lone ashtray. It tasted like death and he never did it again.)

They also learned that Otto had no organization system whatsoever. Dot was the first to announce this. 

“Scratchy has  _ no organization system whatsoever! _ ” Dot announced. She had a stack of files beside her on the ottoman as she sprawled out over the edge, flipping through loose papers. “His bank statements are shoved in the same file as a printed GoogleMaps route to the nearest Applebee’s and a flyer for…” She squinted as she read, “Off-end Position: Crank-en….Western….gesundheit?” 

“Bless you,” Wakko said, sitting up from the floor where he had been laying for the better part of the hour. He wasn’t really helping, but he was entertaining himself, up until he sat up to reply to Dot and slowly started to  _ look  _ at his surroundings. 

Dot stared at Yakko over the papers in her hand, suddenly very interested in the content of the stray flyers. Sill, Yakko could read the clear message in her eyes as if they shared a moment of sibling telepathy:  _ your turn _ .

Yakko sighed and stood up from the desk chair. During these blackout spells, Wakko would either be completely ignorant to the situation and was his usual goofy self a couple decades off the mark - or, Wakko was aware enough that he sensed something wasn’t right but unable to recall what it was. Yakko could tell right away that this was one of the latter; Wakko had a pinch between his eyes and an uncharacteristic frown as he looked around Scratchy’s office, clearly a bit spaced. As Yakko sat on the floor across from them, they reeled back in a wince. It was likely just from the unfamiliar and more vibrant style Yakko was re-animated in, but it still stung. 

“What do you remember, sib?” Yakko began carefully. 

“Uh,” Wakko tried. “We were visiting Scratchy. He tried to hypnotize us.” Wakko giggled, and the sound soothed some of Yakko’s worries. “It didn’t work. But, uh. That’s not right, is it?”

Yakko shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

Wakko’s bottom lip stuck out. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Yakko couldn’t help but wince, and that only deepend Wakko’s pout. 

“Okay, sib, listen,” Yakko said, scooching closer until he could grip Wakko’s hands reassuringly. “Something happened and it hurt your memory. We’re trying to find out why.”

Wakko’s eyes were wide as he began, “What happened? Was it really bad? Is Dot okay? Are  _ you  _ okay? What year is it? Why do you look like  _ that--? _ ”

“Hang on sib,” Yakko said. “Dot, hand me a paper, would you?”

“Get it yourself.”

“ _ Pleeaaase? _ ”

Dot rolled her eyes, but chose a paper from her file and sent it through the air. Yakko snatched it as it made a graceful arc across the room. 

“Okay, now get me a pen!”

A pen was promptly chucked and met its mark directly on Yakko’s forehead. 

“ _ Ow! _ ”

“You asked for a pen!”

Yakko rubbed the sore spot before returning his attention to his other sibling. 

He tapped the pen on his chin before writing, speaking aloud as he went. “Your name is Wakko Warner. You have an older brother named Yakko and a little sister named Dot.”

Wakko scrunched his nose. “I knew that.”

Yakko refrained from adding,  _ for now _ , and sombering the mood. 

“The year is 2022,” Yakko continued. 

“ _ It is? _ ” Wakko asked.

“And you recently had an...accident that’s been causing your memory to regress. We’re trying to find a way to reverse it.” 

Wakko listened intently as Yakko finished the note and tucked the pen behind his ear. 

“Now to put it in a spot that you’ll read it,” Yakko pondered aloud, hand on his chin. 

Wakko mimicked him and appeared to think for a solution with his brother. Bit it was Yakko who came to the conclusion when his eyes landed on the bright red hat. 

Without warning, he snatched the hat from his sibling’s head, inciting an indignant, “Hey!” from the younger one. Using a piece of tape, he stuck the paper to the brim of Wakko’s hat. Then, he placed the hat back on Wakko’s head, brim-forward, and causing their ears to splay out underneath. Wakko frowned. 

“Just deal with it for now, okay?” Yakko coaxed. 

Wakko sighed - although it sounded closer to a growl - and nodded begrudgingly. 

An intriguing “Oooh!” attracted their attention before a real argument could break out. Dot’s tail was sticking up from behind the ottoman. Her head popped up a second later, grinning mischievously, and held up a small key. 

“What’s that for?” Wakko asked. 

Dot shrugged. “No idea.” She turned it in her hand. “Looks too small to be a housekey, though.”

Yakko, following the plot thread, stood and approached his sister. He took the key from her fingers. She was right; it was too small for a door lock, or anything bigger than that. As far as they knew, Scratchy didn’t keep a safe in his office, either. But Yakko remembered seeing a lock around the right size while going through the doc’s papers. 

Yakko, with his siblings on his tail, hopped the desk and landed in the office chair, his momentum spinning him around to face the partially-hidden filing cabinet with a lock on the bottom drawer, labeled ‘Clients’. He slid the key smoothly into the lock. His siblings collectively let out an “ _ Ooh! _ ” as the drawer popped open. 

Yakko had a proud grin at his discovery and eagerly began thumbing the contents of the cabinet. The other two watched intently, just as excited to find dirt on Scratchy’s celebrity clients. They had never seen anyone else in his office before, so they have no idea the kind of people who come to see him. 

As Yakko continued searching, however, his grin slowly fell. His excitement fell away to confusion. 

“Well, what is it?” Dot pressed. 

Instead of answering, Yakko gripped the single folder in the drawer and pulled it into his lap. The scrawled handwriting on the label read  _ The Warners _ .

So, the third thing they learned about Scratchy was that they were his only clients. 

“But Scratchy said he had lots of clients,” Wakko said. 

“Back in ‘93 he did,” Yakko said. “I wonder what changed.”

He put a hand on the folder but hesitated to open it. This folder was heavier than 10-ish years of therapy could produce, especially when they destroyed his notes most of the time. No, Yakko had a feeling that there was 22 years worth of information that they had missed out on, and Yakko wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. 

Dot did not share this sentiment. 

“C’mon! Open it!” She urged.

Yakko took a deep breath and began to open the cover of the folder. Right away, he saw an image of the water tower and the messy scrawled handwriting of Doctor Scratchandsniff. It was near impossible to translate, and Yakko started to suspect that it might not even be English, when the phone let out a shrill ring.

It made all three of them jump a foot in the air. All the documents scattered and countless photos and torn note pages were scattered about the room. Yakko tried to collect them as the youngest two started a sprint towards the phone with a unanimous shout of “I’ve got it!”.

“Hang on, baby sibs!” Yakko called out just as Dot’s hand hovered over the receiver. “Let it go to voicemail. Remember,  _ Scratchy isn’t here. _ ” He said that last part with emphasis and the two thankfully understood. 

The three tried to pick up the scattered papers while the phone rang, but it did little to clean up the mess. A tornado very well could have blown through the office. It made Yakko wonder how Scratchy ever got it all to fit in one folder. 

The answering machine picked up after the sixth ring. 

“ _ Otto, it’s Norita again. Call me when you get back from your trip. Don’t worry if it’s a late hour - I never sleep. _

_ Plotz still isn’t answering my calls so he’s either ignoring me or dropped off the grid. I suggest you give him a try. And let me know if you have any other information on his location.  _

_ Oh, and check if you have any copies of the Warner’s old files. We need everything we can get unless we want to lose one of our biggest money makers.” _

The call ends abruptly with a firm click. 

There was a lot to process in that one short message. Plotz was involved? What did he know? Where did go, anyway? Yakko had assumed he retired, or maybe Norita bullied him for his position. And Scratchy wasn’t just gone for the day, but on a trip and even Norita doesn’t know when he’ll be back. 

This whole thing made his head hurt. He looked to his siblings, ready to discuss it with them and share ideas, but Dot didn’t seem like she had been listening as intently. She held one of the loose papers in her hand and closely inspected it, her expression unreadable. Before he could ask, she carefully folded it and slipped it in her skirt pocket. 

Yakko looked to Wakko next on instinct. It was a subconscious thing that he’s done since he could remember - to make sure all was accounted for. 1, 2, ready to yak. And as his eyes slid over to his second sibling, his mouth open to make some comment about the phone call, the words came out in a drawn-out, “Uuuuuuh…..” before dying off. 

Wakko was standing with his back to the other two. His ears were pressed back and his tail was limp, unusual for his character. 

“Waks?” Yakko asked, and shared a concerned look with Dot.

They didn’t reply. 

Cautiously, Yakko began to approach. It should be too soon for another memory blackout, but Yakko is starting to believe that he should expect everything to go wrong by now. 

Dot followed slightly behind him as he peered over Wakko’s shoulder. 

Wakko did not look lost or confused, or even spacing out, as he sometimes did before all this. No; his eyes were wide open in paralyzed terror, his mouth slightly agape and his breaths coming quicker and quicker as Yakko watched. 

“Wakko, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, failing to keep the rising panic out of his voice. He followed his sibling’s stare to a window directly across from them. It had gotten dark outside since they’ve invaded Scratchy’s office. There wasn’t much to see except inky blackness. 

But then - Yakko wasn’t entirely sure, as the reflections in the window made it difficult to see any sort of shapes beyond the dark, but --

There was a barely-there reddish glow that illuminated the vague shape of a humanoid, one that was staring right back at them. 

Wakko spoke then, voice unusually haunted and weak, and that nearly terrified Yakko more than facing their stalker. 

“ _ Red Hat Man _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if ya want, you can find me on tumblr @ wakkowraith <3


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